


Hand on heart

by legolastariel



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, POV Daryl, POV First Person, POV Rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 03:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10480956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legolastariel/pseuds/legolastariel
Summary: Daryl and Rick's thoughts in the closing scene of 7x15 when Rick places his hand on Daryl's chest and stays glued to him. :-) Everything happens for a reason ...





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's unbeta'ed (yet), so sorry about typos and other mistakes.  
> This just happened to "pop up" and despite not having slaved over this story for days and weeks, I hope it turned out alright and you'll like it.

_** Hand on heart ** _

 

_Daryl’s POV:_

I wanna kill him, simple as that. I just wanna kill him. He deserves no better. Neither of them does, but _he_ … he needs ta die first of all.   
I hate him more than Negan, more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my life, even my old man. 

Negan is a bastard. He doesn’t know any better – hurting and humiliating people, taking whatever he wants without giving a damn what it means to others, that’s just who he is. That’s the way his world works, probably always has. Was the same with my dad. Can’t even blame them for being what they are. 

But Dwight – he knows better. He wasn’t even a bad guy when I first met him, but he decided to side with the devil. He killed Denise, he betrayed me, he shot me, was part of all the shit they did to me at the Sanctuary, stole my stuff, but worst of all – if it hadn’t been for him, Glenn would never have been out there at all. 

After all he’s done, how could I just let him get away with it? I had to try, had to stop him, had to make him pay. The day in the burned forest, when we both made the wrong decision, we sealed Glenn’s fate.  
Dwight shouldn’t have betrayed me after I offered to help him and Sherry. He just shouldn’t have. And I … I should have killed him and never given him a chance to. None of all that happened would have. And Glenn would still be alive today.

Negan killed him, I may have forced his hand, but Dwight – he is the one who caused the landslide in the first place. And for that he’s gonna pay.

I charge forward, try to get to him to kill him in every way imaginable and as often as I can, but I’m being stopped.   
I marginally notice Michonne, Tara and Jesus reach out to get a hold of me, but they pull back quickly enough, probably realizing that there is nothing _they_ could possibly do to stop me.   
Rick blocks my way, tries to lock eyes with me and makes soothing sounds while his hands first hold my arms and then push against my chest to hold me back. 

The fury and hate are still there, but all of a sudden I seem to be able to think clearly again, breathe, control my actions – and I stop.  
He doesn’t pull back, leaves his hand placed flat on my chest – gently, calm, without shoving or applying pressure. It’s just there, warm and soothing.

I’m instantly reminded of that day back in Atlanta, when we went back to get Merle. I remember a moment of cold fury back then, too. Not nearly as intense as the one now, but enough to have me go off – and Rick stopped me back then, too.

But things have changed. That day in Atlanta he did shove and his touch held no gentleness, no warmth, no love. It was rough, an expression of his own anger and back then it was the furthest thing from my mind that he could ever be a friend, a brother, the center of my world. 

I like how things have changed. How _we_ have changed. That day in Atlanta I just wanted to slap that hand, was close to telling him that he was gonna lose it if he ever touched me again.  
These days I’m craving for Rick’s touch and I’ve come to love his hands. Love the way he entwines his fingers with mine, caresses my skin tenderly, runs his slender fingers through my hair or cups my face – or places them flat on my chest to stop me from making a stupid move _again._

I wish he had stopped me on the clearing that night, too. Wish he’d been there right by my side – maybe it would have made getting up and leaving the spot I had been sitting in a lot harder, because it would have meant leaving his side. Maybe I had stayed, wouldn’t have punched Negan and Glenn would still be with us.

Rick is that one step in front of me and it’s funny how I consider that spot right behind his shoulder _my_ spot now, how I don’t feel as comfortable and at ease anywhere else.    
He has turned around to Dwight, keeps his eyes firmly fixed on that bastard, but the hand remains on my chest.  It’s right above my heart and I’m sure he feels my heartbeat, just like I feel the warmth of his skin radiate and seep through the fabric of my shirt. Is it hot in here? I almost expect to find a print on my skin later where he’s touching me, and I like that thought. The marks he leaves on me, visible or not, are different from those my old man used to leave – they are signs of love. Something Will Dixon was totally incapable of. May he rot in Hell. 

Same place I’m gonna send Dwight. One day. Probably not this day, but he’ll get what’s coming to him. 

 

_Rick’s POV:_

When Rosita opens the cell and the man inside slowly rises to his feet, so does my bloodpressure and I can’t help gritting my teeth.   
Dwight. I know who that guy is – heard all about him and I’ve _seen_ much more than I would have liked, too. He’s got some balls to show his ugly, burned face around here. 

Before I can even open my mouth to give that jackass a piece of my mind, I hear Daryl’s furious yell behind me and the next second he’s forcing his way through the assembled group like a canon ball – and I know if he reaches his goal, he’s gonna do just as much damage there. 

Why I stop him I don’t even know. I want Dwight dead as much as Daryl does, but probably for different reasons.   
Yes, he killed Denise and I cared a great deal for her – she saved Carl’s life – but that’s not the primary reason. He stole Daryl’s most valued, his _only_ belongings, but those are just things – they can be replaces or he’ll learn to live without them like we all do. I cannot even blame Glenn’s death on that guy – Negan did that, no one else. And _he_ is going to pay for it.

But it was Dwight on the clearing that night who held the crossbow, Daryl’s own crossbow, into my partner’s face and offered to pull the trigger. And he would have, if Negan had so much as nodded. Negan didn’t threaten Daryl’s life any more than he threatened all of us, but Dwight did.   
And it was him shoving Daryl into the back of the van, helping those bastards to take him away from me, while he was once more pointing his weapon at him. He has shot the man I love, he betrayed him and in one blow destroyed all the trust Daryl had slowly learned to put in people. He forced him to kneel, fed him dogfood and was part in torturing and humiliating my man. No one gets away with all that. These are more than enough reasons for me to end that bastard’s life – each of them would actually do – but the moment I place my hand on Daryl’s chest I feel my fury suddenly subside and I can think clearly again, breathe, control my actions – and I stop. 

I can feel Daryl’s frantically beating heart and the warmth of his skin and it’s an instantly soothing sensation to me – it makes me realize what is really important, what I live for, what I would die for. 

If Rosita is telling the truth, Dwight might be able to help keep both of us alive, as well as the rest of my family so that we can see another day together. We should give him the benefit of a doubt and hear him out despite all he’s done, despite what he deserves.   
I know I’ve shot too quickly in the past and asked questions too late and I regret this in more than one case. The first one that comes to mind is Ethan. Without knowing who he was, who Gregory was or even having the slightest clue why he would want to kill the leader of Hilltop, I took sides and stepped in for the old grouch. A thing I’ve regretted more than once since then. Ethan would probably be a valuable member of our army against Negan now. Gregory hasn’t been a valuable member of anything since day one and he’s become no more than an immense burden.   
I’ve made a wrong decision back then, acted too quickly and I’m not gonna make this mistake twice. Not when the lives of people I love are at stake. 

Daryl has stopped fighting and is looking at me now. I can see, I can _feel_ all the emotions that are boiling up in him, but as the seconds pass his heartbeat is slowing down and he seems to relax. I’d like to think that my touch is having this soothing effect on him and I leave my hand where it is even while I turn around to Dwight now. 

Apparently the contact with my lover has the same soothing effect on me, because I can look at the Savior without charging forward to strangle him instantly, and Daryl stands still now as well. I wish he’d been the man on my side a long time ago, wish we had made it a habit to touch earlier – it might have saved a lot more lives than just Dwight’s today. Whether it’s even worth saving we will see.

 

_Daryl’s POV:_

I instantly feel a sense of loss when Rick turns around and with one last pat pulls back his hand. He nods to the revelation that Dwight wants to help us fight Negan and my pulse rate instantly picks up again.  
I trust Rick, always have, but how can he nod to this, how can he even consider letting Dwight get away with all he’s done just like that?  
I can almost still feel the warmth of Rick’s touch and there is a tingling sensation on my skin where his hand rested over my heart just a moment ago and it has me stay in my spot behind his shoulder, quietly, unmoving, waiting, putting my trust in this man to do the right thing.

          “Okay.” Rick cockes his head and I know his eyes are cold as glacier ice in this moment.

He pulls out his gun the next second and points it at Dwight. My heart skips a beat.

          _No! Don’t!_

I want that bastard dead more than anything and I know Rick’s got his own reasons to kill him, but … No. Negan, Negan is Rick’s job. After killing several of our people, friends, family members, it should be Rick putting an end to him – he’s got the right. But Dwight – he is mine.

          “Get on your knees!”

 

_Rick’s POV:_

I meant to shoot him just now, despite Rosita apparently trusting the man and his words. He deserves to die for all he’s done, but something stopped me and had me reconsider.

It shouldn’t be me. I don’t have the right. He didn’t betray me, didn’t shoot me, didn’t threaten my life, humiliated me and killed someone very dear to me.  
If anyone has a right to settle things with Dwight, it’s Daryl, and I won’t take this away from him. It’s his call whether or not he’s gonna do it and place and time for his revenge should be his choice, too.

But Dwight is a Savior. He is the enemy. And he hurt my man. I won’t let him get away with it just like that. He’s gonna kneel – not before me, before Daryl. He’s gonna understand who’s boss around here and as far as Dwight is concerned, that too is Daryl.

When Dwight sinks onto his knees without hesitation, I cast a glance over my shoulder and see Daryl look back at me with calm, blue eyes, the message in them an open book to me.

          _Thank you._

I cannot help casting him a smile. He will do the right thing – I know his heart. And I can’t wait till I’m alone with him, later, so I can place my hand on that heart again, knowing that it’s beating for me. 


End file.
